First Steps on the Road part 2 of Legendary Friendship
by Bethann66
Summary: Gimli has been appointed as an underaged Legolas' guardian with the elf's agreement. Both begin to wonder if they've made the right choice! Contains non sexual consensual ( or at least tacit agreement) spanking. If this offends please do not read.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is written with my co author Minnie and is a sort of follow up story to Beth's "Legendary Friendship" set shortly after the fall of Gandalf. To understand our stories you have to accept our a/u idea that elves come of age at 1,000 years. We know what the great professor had to say on that subject but we've decided to respectfully ignore his view. We very much appreciate your comments as long as they are not opposing our alternate universe ideas. We know some do not like that view, but it is the one we've chosen to show. There are many more stories that belong to this series. If anyone is interested in reading more, we'd love to know! _

_Enjoy!_

**_This story contains non sexual spanking. If the idea offends please do not read. _**

I shall never forget my father's final words to me on the night before our departure from Rivendell. "Your bravery is not lacking, and your skills with the axe are without compare. Both will serve you well. It is your kind heart that will be your downfall if you do not take care. This has ever been your greatest weakness. Guard your heart carefully, my son."

Considering the gravity of the occasion, I had firmly grasped Gloin's arm and made the promises he had wanted to hear. At the time, though, it had taken all of my self-control to keep from rolling my eyes. How often I had heard these words or ones similar to them. I believe the first time I ever heard them was when I was but a dwarfling. I had rescued a mewling kitten from a condemned mineshaft that had begun crumbling down around me as I entered it. Never afraid of anything was I! As a brash young dwarf, I once threw myself into the midst of a melee to defend the honor of a young maiden who was being harassed by a crowd of drunks. At least ten sturdy dwarves had run cowering back to their homes by the time I had finished with them. Always my father was proud of my bravery, but always he warned me against becoming too soft of heart for my own good.

Those warnings had ever seemed to me to be the ramblings of an ancient dwarf becoming foolish with age. It is only just now that I begin to think that perhaps the old devil was right after all. My traitorous heart has finally led me into the trouble that will be the end of me I fear. I have agreed to accept a commission that may end up being the worst mistake of my life, and it cannot be undone for a dwarf never goes back on his word. It is all the fault of that blasted ranger! Had he not taken it upon himself to fill me in on the truth about the elf, I could have remained blissfully ignorant. I was perfectly at ease with the former relationship I had with Thranduil's brat. If he spoke to me at all it was an insult muttered in an icy tone and I usually replied with a growl or glare of my own. Mostly we just stayed out of each other's way, and that worked out fine for me. It was a comfortable way to get along. But as I said, that dratted human had to step in and change everything we had worked so hard to build. He took it upon himself to let me know that the elf was in fact not yet an adult. This bit of information changed everything! I could no longer continue in my old habits, and I'll admit it pricked at my conscience when I recalled my past treatment of him. Of course I would never knowingly treat a child of any race unkindly. There would be no honor in such deeds, and I pride myself on being honorable, though sometimes a dwarf is more comfortable not knowing all the facts.

Aragorn had looked so desperate when he asked me to look after the elfling, that I could not say him nay. How could I when he made it seem so vital to the quest and with Gandalf just lost to us? To be perfectly honest, I probably would have promised to adopt a band of orcs had I thought it would ease his burden a little. It was impossible to refuse his request when he looked like that. But what finally swayed me completely was talking to the princeling, himself. The poor lad had looked truly lost and in need of someone. With the wizard gone and Aragorn weighed down with new responsibility, the child had no one to turn to with his grief and of course my treacherous heart would not leave me alone until I had made a promise I had no idea how to keep. It got my ire up when I considered how dark times had become if we were depending on younglings to go to battle. It was and still is my opinion that he should yet be under his real father's watchful eye, not out risking his life on this dangerous expedition, though I will back peddle and say he has been a great asset to the Fellowship. We may not have been the best of comrades in the past but I must give credit where credit is due. He is a skilled warrior and I would feel quite secure if he were guarding my back in a battle.

In any case, in a moment of weakness I agreed to act as guardian to the lad until he can be returned to his father. He must have had a weak moment as well, for he also has agreed to this arrangement even though it was clearly explained what this would mean for both of us. He is to heed me in all things, just as he would his own parent, and I am to keep watch on his general well being. So at a most unusual and inconvenient time, and without having the pleasures of taking a wife, I have suddenly become the father of a very tall and potentially very dangerous adolescent. I shudder to think what Gloin would say if he could see the mess his son was in, in spite of all his warnings to be on guard. I should have listened to him.

Once a dwarf puts his shoulder to the plough, however, he does not look back. My honor is at stake and I must not renege on my commitment. The trouble is I am clueless as to how to fulfill it. What do I know of the needs of elflings? What I know of children comes almost entirely from memories of my own childhood and what I know of elves could be contained in a hobbit's thimble. I am unequipped to carry out this assignment, and yet I must find a way.

I have been asked to 'watch out' for the lad, but am at a loss as to how to accomplish this task when he never stays in sight. Since morning I have been trying to keep an eye on him and finding it to be a thankless task. We have been walking at a brisk, but steady pace, and making good progress too, but the elf is never where I can see him. He is always far ahead scouting the path or beyond my sight behind us making sure we are not being followed. This is all well and good, for his eyesight is very keen, but it makes my new job near impossible.

And trees have been a hindrance. No less than a dozen times this morning I have spied him in the very tops of some of the tallest trees I have ever seen. How some of those branches hold his weight is beyond my understanding. Watching him clamber about like some kind of blond squirrel has taken its toll on my nerves this day. When I asked for an explanation as to what he was doing, he informed me that he was trying to discover what kinds of birds had made the nests in each tree. There are no eggs, it seems, since it is not Spring, but there are other clues such as left behind shards of shell and bits of feathers. You could have knocked me over with one of those feathers, when I heard his rationalization! Here I have been breaking my neck trying to keep up with his antics, only to find out he was just nest watching! Not to mention the fact that he has traveled three times the distance as the rest of us with his running around. I understand that elves have little need of rest, but he is throwing good energy after good for no reason and it is bound to catch up with him eventually.

By midday I have finally taken all I can of trying to keep track of the Laddie. I also wish to put an end to the glances that keep coming my way from that irritating Ranger. He is clearly amused at my discomfort and seems too pleased with himself for engineering this whole situation. When next I see my new charge on the ground I call out to him.

"Legolas! Walk with me for a moment, Lad."

Immediately he falls into step beside me, "What is it, Master Gimli?"

I stop walking and grab his arm, halting his progress as well and allowing the others to get a bit ahead of us so our words can be private. "I would request that you remain on the ground with the rest of us unless it is for necessary reasons."

"You do not find my reasons for climbing acceptable?" His tone is scornful. Clearly he does not like hearing what I have to say, but that does not stop me from continuing.

"Indeed I do not. We have a long trek ahead of us this day and for many more days to come. Ye would do well to conserve your energy a bit." I could see my words were not setting well with him, for the scowl on his face became quite spectacular.

"Obviously you do not understand elven abilities, Dwarf! I do not need to 'conserve energy' as you say. I am no mere mortal requiring constant rest."

Never would I have believed that such a fair face could carry such a sour expression, but I choose to ignore his rude manner and go on with what I have to say. "That may well be so. Nevertheless I expect you will do as I say. If you find it necessary to leave the company, you will explain your reasons for doing so beforehand."

He glowers at me through narrowed eyes, and I can see he is struggling to keep his temper in check. Since he has given his word to obey me, his honor is also at stake. I suspect that is the only thing that is keeping his tongue somewhat civil. Instead of answering, he merely gives a quick nod and moves to walk behind me. I can feel his glare boring into the back of my skull. If dirty looks were arrows, I would now have one protruding from my forehead! Still he is complying with my wishes so far, and I did not ask him to have a good attitude about it, so I cannot complain I suppose. I have a distinct feeling this is going to be a very long day.

I should never have agreed to this!

What possessed me? How could I have been so foolish as to even think of agreeing to this ridiculous 'guardianship'? My brains must have been addled, or I was put under some sort of spell. What elf in his right mind would allow a dwarf to rule him as I have done?

Which mayhap explains it all. I must indeed have run mad and now I am beginning to understand exactly what that momentary madness may cost me while I continue on this quest.

Gimli now seems to believe he has a right to order my every movement. 'I expect you will do as I say'. Am I to leap off the end of a cliff at his behest, or run naked through Moria?

Moria, my breath catches in my throat. In that dreadful fell place I lost, no we lost Mithrandir. I still cannot comprehend how it could be. He was a Maiar. I have known him all my life; he was a constant. While he walked before us I could almost believe we might succeed in our endeavors. Now … now doubt clouds my mind and despair dogs my steps. A small part of me wishes now that a messenger from my father had arrived in Imladris before we set out, for I know well that I would not have been given permission to travel with the ring-bearer. Rather I would have been ordered home under escort and in disgrace.

Still, that ignominy would have been preferable to what I face now.

The son of Thranduil under the thumb of the son of Gloin it is unsupportable, yet it has to be borne. I have no choice, for I have given my word and no matter how much I might rail at the situation I will not break my oath, not for anything. I have not sunk as low as that.

Yet I already regret my agreement to Estel's suggestion and fear that I will come to regret it far more as time goes on.

I know so little of dwarves. Oh I have studied their culture and history but real knowledge, practical knowledge of how they think and feel and act, of those my understanding is all but non-existent. I have been in the company of but one of their kind and he walks ahead of me now.

When I say walk I actually mean stomps. Gimli Gloinson stamps, his every movement accompanied by the squeaking of leather, the jingle of metal on metal, and the thump of his walking axe as it hits the earth. It is a wonder to me that we are not beset by Orc. Our enemies must be able to hear us approaching for many a league with the amount of noise he makes.

Yet I have to admit that he has proved himself a useful companion on our journey; he rarely appears tired, and he is a doughty fighter. He has also shown himself to be kind and thoughtful of others' needs and comforts.

Not mine I hasten to add, for initially we had naught but disdain for each other. How could it have been otherwise? My lord father imprisoned Gloin. He was right to do so. The dwarves had trespassed in our woods and disturbed our revelry. What is more they refused to give a reason for their presence, although we found it out soon enough when we marched to battle.

There was a rapprochement of sorts after the Battle of the Five Armies but not, it seemed, enough to convince Gloin or many other dwarves that we elves were good folk deserving of their regard. That is a charge that works both ways of course. The elves of the Wood do not think much of their dwarven neighbors and I was brought up to look down on them and their crafts. Now I have to rethink my long held views on the Naugrim.

Although this day all I can think of is how resentful I feel at being told I must seek permission before I can leave his side.

I am no elfling to be so bidden!

I wonder if he can feel the heat of my glare, which I am presently sending to the back of his helm. If he does he gives no sign of discomfort. Does he not understand that I must have freedom if I am to be of use to what remains of our Fellowship? My eyesight and swiftness of foot are used to best effect when I can range before and behind the main party. While I am tethered here I am of little use.

My sense of disgruntlement grows with every step we take. The trees call to me. I want to climb to their heights and share their song if only for the most fleeting of moments. I need their comfort. They are the link to my distant homeland; while I am amongst their branches I feel closer to my father and almost believe I can sense his presence.

But rather than my Adar, I am plodding along in the wake of a dwarf who seems to believe he has the right to order my obedience, which of course he does, which adds to my sense of ill-usage.

I should never have agreed to this.

I find it difficult to keep my mind on what I should be doing. When I volunteered for this quest I knew what I could offer and what my strengths were. I did not doubt my abilities; I have trained for many yeni and am accounted as the best archer still on Arda. I can track and hunt as well as any of my kin and have proven my fighting credentials over the years I have spent protecting my Adar's realm. Yes, I am young, little more than an adolescent, but I am no child and I resent the fact that others, specifically the dwarf, now see me as one.

Surely, I was allowed to show my grief at the death of Mithrandir without Aragorn believing I was in need of a permanent minder. Was I not allowed to seek some small measure of comfort at such a terrible and unexpected event without everyone thinking I am become incapable of handling my emotions unless I am kept under the eyes of someone more 'mature' than myself?

Except the being given that responsibility can hardly be said to keep me under his eye, since he is so much shorter than I. Perhaps I should offer to walk along on my knees! That thought makes me smile and immediately the dwarf turns back and asks what I find so amusing. Those dark eyes seem to look deep inside my mind and the bushy eyebrows rise in mute question.

I make some vague answer, disconcerted that he seems capable of picking up on the slightest of changes in my demeanor I shall have to be very careful. Does he have eyes in the back of his head or is it some kind of dwarfish mind reading capability that I have never been told about.

It seems that dwarves are not as dumb as I have been brought up to believe, at least not this particular dwarf. It is my ill fortune it seems to have been saddled with an over inquisitive and very perceptive member of the Naugrim race.

We walk along in silence for a while, and I find myself watching Gimli from the corner of my eye, trying to gain some insight into this strange creature that now seems to hold my life and freedom in his hands.

Talking of hands I realize for the first time how large his hands are; there is a power in them that makes me shudder for some inexplicable reason.

That he is a warrior of some ability I do not doubt. He is skilled in his use of weaponry and I have come to respect his strength and his resilience. He never seems to tire despite the exigencies of our journey and he is unfailingly kind to the Periannath, young Peregrin in particular, often shielding him from trouble from Boromir or Gandalf.

But I am not Pippin and I do not need to be shielded nor do I need to be watched and looked after.

Almost without conscious thought my strides lengthen and soon I am level with and then ahead of the dwarf. If I can just speak to Estel, perhaps he can explain my needs to Master Gimli.

My feet carry me forward and I feel a sense of impending freedom when my forward momentum is summarily stopped by a hand on the back of my tunic.

"Have ye forgotten already what I said?"

"I needs must talk to Aragorn" I tug myself free of his grip, acutely aware of the stares I am receiving from the other members of the Fellowship. I can feel the heat of a blush on my face and my embarrassment grows, as does my resentment.

"Then ye had only to ask"

I want to argue the point of having to ask for permission for anything from such a creature as he, but know that an argument now would do me no favors. Instead I incline my head as if agreeing with him and then sprint off towards the front of the line. Estel has the gall to grin at me, and my hopes of eliciting his support in throwing over the dwarf's guardianship die on my lips unspoken.

Very well, if that is the way it must be I shall have to find other methods of shaking off the overprotective supervision of Gimli Gloinson. I do not give Estel the satisfaction of pleading, but talk instead of general matters, even while looking back at Master Gimli as if I am speaking of him and seeking Estel's approval for something.

When Estel nods at one of my comments on the need to find shelter for the day, I drop back again to where Gimli is and inform him that I have spoken to Aragorn about finding a suitable camp site. I do not ask his permission to be released from his side, I am not so foolish, nor do I do more than imply that I have gained Estel's consent to leave the Fellowship, but the dwarf accepts the fact that I have done so and waves me away. I leap off the path into the trees, free from unwanted supervision for a short while at least.

Never in my life have I had an assignment that I felt so unsure of how to complete. As a craftsman, I am used to drafting and planning. Weeks, even years of preparation have usually gone into any project I have worked on. Always I have known the outcome, before I even began the labor. Of course in battle, one can never know the final conclusion from the beginning, but even wars must be planned and prepared for. I have studied battle tactics and have received decades of weapons training along with plenty of practical experience in combat. I know what I am about when it comes to metalworking or war craft. Even when we began this perilous journey, I was aware from the beginning what my role would be, for I know my strengths and abilities and how to use them in full measure.

It is only in this new commission that I have for the first time felt uncertain about what I must do. It is an unsettling feeling for a dwarf. I have agreed to take charge of the pointy-eared menace that now walks behind me. This is something so unexpected that I could never have prepared for it. At first it seemed that it might not prove too difficult a task, as the lad, in a vulnerable state after the loss of Gandalf, showed me a bit of his sweet nature when he asked if he could braid my beard. Any trace of the charming being he was that day has been replaced by an arrogant, scowling, adolescent brat.

I must not let my uncertainty show lest he find a way to use it to his advantage. I continue to walk with conviction, looking straight ahead as if I am thinking of nothing but our destination. He walks so silently behind me that I begin to wonder if he is heeding my instructions to stay with the company. Unable to help myself, I look back and am surprised to see the glare that earlier marred his features gone, and an impish grin in its place. I have to control my expression or I will be smiling as well. He looks very like the young Hobbit, Pippin, when he is intent on planning some sort of naughtiness. I do not comment on this, however, since I am certain it would not be well received. Instead I just ask what he find so amusing. He gives me a look of pure innocence and a clearly contrived answer; so now I am sure he's up to no good and am just waiting to see what form his mischief will take.

I can feel him studying me and can only wonder what might be going on in that scheming mind of his. He still walks without making a sound, so I sense, rather than hear, as he moves up behind me. I am prepared as he speeds past me, and grab a handful of the back of his tunic, successfully halting his forward progress. He frowns in my direction and tries to wrench free, but I have a fast hold.

"Have ye forgotten already what I said?" I ask as he continues to struggle in my grasp.

"I needs must talk to Aragorn," he says and I release him.

"Then ye had only to ask," I notice the sudden flush of his face and look around to see the others staring at us curiously. It was not my intention to humiliate the lad, but he is the one who insisted on testing the seriousness of my convictions, and we will not be able to forever keep secret our new 'agreement' from those who are our constant companions. I suspect it will take some time and effort for the elfling to come to accept that reality though.

I watch as he rushes forward to catch up with our leader, looking for all of Arda, like a school child planning to tattle on a playmate. I have to laugh to myself when Strider gives him a smug smile before he even begins speaking, causing his face to fall in disappointment. Clearly Aragorn is finding amusement in our situation, and I begin to think he may have the ability to rival the elf when it comes to mischief making when he's of a mind to. They talk for a while, and then the Laddie returns to my side.

He informs me that he has spoken to Aragorn about the need to find shelter for the evening. It is not unusual for the elf to be sent ahead to scout out a campsite, so that is not what makes me suspicious. What has me concerned is that he is again wearing that wide-eyed look of virtuousness. He must have practiced that expression for centuries, and I feel suddenly sorry for all who have been taken in by it, for it is rather appealing, though it pains me to admit it. Still I have no real reason to prevent him from leaving, and I have heard that elves do not lie, though I am beginning to wonder if that is just a tale without any factual basis. So, in spite of my misgivings, I send him on his way with a wave of my hand and immediately he is gone from my sight.

I am beginning to feel uneasy again. It has been some time since the elf left our path, and still we have not stopped to make camp. He should have been back by now with some kind of report, even if it was just to say that there is no suitable place to stop in the vicinity. I have a nagging feeling that something may have befallen him since he has gone beyond my sight. What if he is in need of aid, and I have failed to even take notice of which direction he took when he left my side? Perhaps I have already fallen short in the promise I made to Aragorn and to the lad himself. I swore to do my best for him, without thinking what that would entail, and now a few days into our new arrangement I have already lost track of him. I should have paid better attention.

Talking of paying attention, I begin to realize that had I been paying attention all along, I would have been able to see that Legolas is little more than a child. Talented and clever he is, have no doubt. Never have I seen an archer with such deadly accuracy and I have great respect for his skills. However these last few days I have been watching him, trying to get an understanding of how I must handle my new assignment, and it has become exceedingly clear that he is a long way from being fully mature. He often displays the recklessness of youth, never considering that he might need to slow down and rest on occasion and is not above taking unnecessary risks. There are plenty of dangers along our path without our having to flirt with disaster, as he sometimes seems to do. One example being he has a penchant for going out alone away from the company. I understand that it is sometimes needful, but when it is not, we are best together. Not that he liked it overmuch when I pointed out that little fact. He can pout in quite an impressive fashion, giving further evidence of his immaturity. Considering how long childhood and adolescence lasts for elves, it is a wonder any of them live through it.

Yes I wonder why I never noticed such an obvious fact earlier in our quest. Honesty makes me admit that I did not notice, because I did not want to notice. I had preconceived ideas about elves before we even set out. I did not want to know Legolas, or any elf for that matter, so did not trouble myself with paying him any heed. I have always been taught that elves are conceited and untrustworthy and beneath bothering to get acquainted with, but have had to reconsider this view. It is my hope that we will be able to put old prejudices aside, and learn to get along. I am willing at least to try.

That is if I haven't lost him already. I am beginning to truly worry now, though Strider is the one who sent him out and he doesn't seem concerned for his lateness. Perhaps if I talk to him, he will be able to ease my mind. After all he has been a friend of my charge for years and he was raised among the elves, so he may be able to give me some useful insight.

I hasten to catch up with our leader who smiles and greets me when I walk up beside him.

"Master Gimli! How goes the new commission?"

"I am not certain. That is what I wish to talk to you about. The lad does not seem overly pleased with the arrangement." I say nothing of my own misgivings.

"Of course he does not," Aragorn laughs, "you have ordered him to stay on the ground with all of us plodding mortals. I am confident he does not like that at all."

I had thought no one had noticed our earlier exchange, but things seldom get past the ranger. His laughter is annoying, though, and I bristle a bit, "I found his wandering to be distracting and unnecessary and thought he would be better to not risk tiring out too soon," I say, defending my actions.

"I am not saying you should not have done so, just that it is not surprising that he does not like it," he says, "Did you ever like being told what you should or should not do when you were a youngster?"

He has a point. I had not thought of it before but it is folly to expect the lad to be pleased with everything I request of him. I will have to be prepared to deal with the fact that he may be irritated with my instructions at times and may well balk at some of them. It is the natural way with youth, and it will take some time for him to understand that I will not be crossed and he would be better to heed to my words. This thought makes me sigh. We may have some bumpy days ahead I fear.

"The fact is I am glad you made that particular request of him." Aragorn continues, " His antics were driving me quite mad, and he cannot continue on at such a pace, no matter what he tells you about 'elven abilities'." He laughs again at my look of dismay. Does he have elf's ears as well so that he heard our conversation? "Yes I know what tactics he will try to use to get his way, my friend, for we have been together for a long time. Likely he'll try to tell you he has no need for any of the comforts we mortals need, sleep and food included, for his pride knows no bounds. Though he has to be getting close to his limits. I have not noticed him sleeping since we lost Mithrandir."

Can that be possible? We have had days of difficult traveling since then. How can it be that he has continued for so long without sleeping, and why haven't I noticed? I have been remiss in my duties to the lad for I should have thought to ask Strider about such things instead of taking the elf's word that he was above such needs. I vow to do better in future, beginning with this night though I expect we may have a row about it before anything is accomplished. Ah well, a dwarf is always up for a challenge and the son of Gloin is used to prevailing in any kind of scrap! I will not be conquered by some stubborn, pouting, bratling of an elf. I square my shoulders and begin to scan the area. It is becoming dark now, and my concerns come flooding back. Where can he have gone?

"Where is your elfling anyway?" Aragorn seems to voice my thoughts. "I have not seen him for some time."

"You sent him to scout out a campsite," I say becoming alarmed, "do you not remember?"

"I did no such thing," Aragorn says, "we spoke of the need to look for shelter, but that is all. I am afraid you have been duped, Master Gimli. What were his exact words?"

I think on it for a moment. He said he had spoken to Aragorn about finding shelter for the evening. I assumed he had been given permission to leave the company though he did not actually say so, now that I think back. In fact I am almost certain that he never said he was to scout the area at all.

The deceitful little scoundrel! I suppose he eased his conscience by telling himself it had not been a lie at all. Well soon enough he will know that we will not be splitting hairs in such a fashion. His clear intent was to fool me so that he could get back to doing what he had a mind to, and in my book that is little different from lying. I intend to leave no doubt about how I feel about such things. If he thinks he can keep me from my duty by such behavior, he has another think coming. I will keep an eye on him from now on, even if I have to hold his hand all the way to the Black Gate! Now all I have to do is find him!

Free, at least for now, I cannot explain even to myself how restricted I felt having to walk behind the dwarf like the smallest of elflings. I suppose I should be happy that he has not as yet attached a leading rein to my person. That would be the worst of humiliations.

I do not doubt his concern. From what I know of him, which is not very much I admit, he seems to be an honest person and one that once he has given his word will do his best to keep it. I do not know, as of yet, whether that will prove to be a good or a bad thing. I suspect that I will find the answer to that question all too soon, but for now I am free of anyone's scrutiny and I intend to make the most of it.

The trees here do not know me as the trees at home do; yet they seem to welcome my presence. Even those who have already settled down for their long winter sleep drowsily acknowledge me as I perch amongst their branches and breathe in the cool air.

Had it been earlier in the year I could sit here unremarked for many hours, but most of the trees here have already lost their leaves and their branches are bare and even an elf such as myself cannot hide in open sight no matter how much he may wish to do so.

High in the sky above my head I see a skein of geese in flight. How wonderful it must be to be able to take to the skies as they do. How simple it would be for the Fellowship if we could all fly as the birds do; our journey would be all the swifter and safer for it. Then I have to clap a hand over my mouth to prevent myself laughing out loud as my imagination supplies my mind with a picture of Gimli Gloinson frantically flapping his arms and trying to get off the ground. With all that armor I cannot see him achieving it, even with the help of the Valar.

Thinking of the dwarf I am reminded that having left behind the rest of the Fellowship for this short period of time I must not allow my pleasure in this solitude to lead me to forget my primary purpose here on this quest. Yes, I need the time for myself but I also made a vow back in Imladris and that must always take precedent over my own needs.

So after a short period of peaceful contemplation it will be time for me to search for a safe campsite as well as try to locate and kill some wild fowl, which seem quite plentiful in this area. Samwise will be happy to have fresh meat for his cooking and it will do no harm to show to the dwarf just how useful my skills are to our company.

Perhaps it will even show him that his too close scrutiny is neither needed nor wanted.

Listening to the whisper of the wind through the branches, I let the tensions of the last day or so to slip away and briefly close my eyes.

The alarm call of a small bird wakens me and I look up at the sky. The short winter day will all too soon be over, and if I am to find a campsite and take down wild ducks I will have to hurry. I suspect my lengthy absence will have caused some concern so it will behoove me to show that I have been gainfully employed while away from them.

Fortunately my keen eyes and swift steps soon allow me to spot a suitable place to set up camp for the night. It is in the lee of a high escarpment, with a small clear stream running through it and enough dead wood about to make a cooking fire a possibility.

Stringing my bow, I now begin my hunt for our dinner. The water birds are just beginning to come down to the water to find shelter for the night amongst the reeds that fringe the stream, so now is my opportunity to kill a brace of them for our supper tonight.

I take out one quickly, the goose falling almost at my feet. My second shot also makes its mark, but rather than dropping to the ground, the arrow protruding from its neck catches on a bush half way up the cliff face. I will have to climb up to retrieve it.

Were I at home or even in Imladris, I would not attempt such a climb alone. I am of course skilled in the art of scaling trees and have had much practice in it, but climbing cold unresponsive stone- I have done it of course but it is not by any means my forte. The trees guide and protect me, they respond to my needs. Perhaps stone responds in the same way to others but I suspect it will not welcome an elf like me and yet …

I could leave the bird and go back to the others. With their support it would likely be a small task to recover our dinner, yet that would leave me open to criticism and ridicule from my companions, the dwarf in particular. I am already being forced into an unwanted and unnecessary relationship with Gimli Gloinson. I will not give him any opportunity to see any weakness in my skills or abilities.

I hang my bow and quiver in a tree alongside the first goose, because to attempt the climb so encumbered would be foolish beyond permission, then step up to the base of the cliff and look upwards. Heights hold no fear for me, but this cold forbidding face of rock gives me momentary pause. It looks more like a vertical sheet of ice than anything and even with my keen eyesight I fail to spot many handholds. Still it must be done so I grit my teeth and reach up to begin my climb.

This is harder than I could ever have imagined, the sheer wall is daunting, formidable. Twice already I have slipped and only by dint of scrabbling with my fingertips have I avoided falling. I should never have considered this. I would not have done so, had I not wanted so very much to prove to the rest of my companions that I am their equal at the very least, and I trust their superior in many things, climbing amongst them.

I would retrace my steps, except I think to go back down will be as hard as to go on up. In other words I am trapped betwixt and between.

Still, I soldier on struggling on up the cliff face towards the thrice be-damned goose; I reach up high seeking a new handhold, knowing I am at the limits of my endurance but determined to go on. Stretching to my absolute bounds my fingers curl around an outcrop of stone and I begin to haul myself upwards when a sudden gust of wind causes me to lose my grip, then I am falling, pin-wheeling downwards, unable to prevent my fall, and I wonder what the dwarf will have to say about this … if I survive the fall that is.


	2. Chapter 2

As dusk settles quickly around us, I realize that we cannot afford to wait any longer to actively look for the elf. These woods will become more dangerous as darkness falls and I worry lest he has become incapacitated in some way. Even someone as skilled and capable as he, is vulnerable if he is injured and alone. Which is exactly why I told him to stay with us in the first place! He better hope he is injured; else I may have trouble keeping my hands from that skinny neck of his! What on Arda was I thinking when I thought I could take on this troublemaking, pointy-eared pest?

Aragorn must agree with my assessments for he tells the others that this is a good enough place to stop for the night. He asks Boromir to take charge of setting up the camp so the two of us can go in search of Legolas, who has been missing for some time now. The Gondorian and the Hobbits look at one another in surprise. It is clear that they did not think his absence strange, proving to me once again that he is off on his own far too often. No matter how powerful his famous 'elven abilities,' it is unsafe for anyone to go out alone when it is not needed, especially without informing anyone. I thought I had made that plain to him before, but evidently not plain enough. I shall have to explain my feelings on this subject again in a way that cannot be misunderstood. As of yet, I do not know how I will accomplish this, though I suppose an axe blade separating his head from his shoulders might be considered too severe. Well I will cross that bridge when I come to it. The first order of business is to find him.

I take a deep breath to calm myself. My worry has fueled my fury, and I need my wits intact to be able to think clearly and look for clues as to where he might be. I do not even know which direction he has taken, so Aragorn and I agree on a signal and then move off in opposite directions to begin our search.

My worry and sense of failure increase with each step I take through the thickly wooded area. I am a decent tracker, but I am no ranger, and the elf moves so lightly that he is unlikely to leave much evidence of his path. The ground gives me no clue as to his possible location and I can feel the panic begin to rise within me. I am certain now that something has befallen him, for it has been too long now even for the elf to stay out of our sight. I am desperate to find him, yet I cannot help fearing what I will find when he is discovered. He could be gravely injured or even... I dare not think that! I think of his father far away, not even knowing where his son is, and of the message someone must bring him if our worst fears are confirmed. This brings me back to the thought that he should not even be here in the first place! It is no good to think on it though. The fact is he is here, and I have been placed in charge of him. I am responsible for the situation we find ourselves in, and I swear to myself that if we find him safe, such a thing will never happen again. Damn these woods that hide every trace his walking here!

Then it occurs to me what the problem is. Why am I looking on the forest floor? He has spent most of this day in the treetops and became quite incensed when I ordered him to the ground. Of course once he got out of my line of vision, he must have taken to the trees again. I lift my eyes to where he might be, and though I see nothing in the trees, I notice something well above the tree line. Though it is twilight and some distance away, I see a shadow of something hanging from the face of a sheer cliff. I move closer until I can see that it is some kind of waterfowl, skewered perfectly through the neck and stuck in a bush. In spite of my fears, I cannot help being impressed. I wonder if anyone else on Arda could make that shot on a moving target so high in the air, even shooting it in the neck to preserve the rest of the meat from being damaged. I dare to hope that I may be close to finding him for he may still be within bowshot of the bird.

I hurry to get to the base of the cliff, so I will have a place to begin my search. On my way I find even clearer evidence that he is nearby. Hanging in a tree, I find the lad's bow and quiver, along with another goose, also shot flawlessly through the center of its narrow neck. This is puzzling. Why would he abandon his bow like this and take off unprotected? Unless he intended to do something where it was needful to be unfettered by such items. Surely he is not foolish enough to try to go after the goose hanging from the cliff face. I look again at the rock wall and see that it is nearly as slick as glass. No one could make that climb alone, unless he were a spider or lizard or some such beastie as that. I remember my past few days of observing the lad and all that I have learned about his childish, reckless behavior and also his fearless and foolish belief that he is indestructible. My heart leaps into my mouth as I realize that, yes, likely he is that foolish!

I run as fast as I can toward the base of the cliff and within a few steps I can see where the tall grasses have been disturbed. A few strides more and I see him, alarmingly unmoving with arms and legs askew like a discarded rag doll. Terror grips me and I skid to a halt by his side and fall to my knees, whistling loudly my signal to Aragorn. My hand trembles as I reach out to brush back the golden hair that is covering most of his face.

Responding to my touch, he sighs, and my heart begins beating again. He turns his head from side to side, as he tries to regain consciousness. I place my open hand in the center of his chest for fear the moment he realizes what has happened he will be on his feet and halfway up the cliff face again. I wonder how far he made it before falling to the earth.

His eyelids begin to flutter and then he opens his eyes, blinking several times as if trying to focus on what is going on. As I predicted he immediately tries to sit up, but my hand prevents such action. He fixes me with an affronted glare, which I promptly decide to ignore.

"Do not move, Laddie," I instruct him, "you must not try to get up yet."

"I am perfectly fine, Master Dwarf," he says, struggling under my hand.

Perfectly fine indeed! I am fed up with his antics and put a warning tone in my voice, "Be still or you will wish you had. You will not move until you have my leave to."

He finally shows some sense and becomes still. Whatever injuries he may have sustained, it seems his mouth is still working at least.

"I do not need you or anyone else watching over me. I am no child!" he asserts.

I almost laugh at his audacity. Here he is flat on his back, pinned to the ground, and up to his eyeballs in trouble and he still has the nerve to make such a statement. I look up at the goose above us and back down into his scowling face.

"Aye, you certainly have proved that today, Elfling." I say and he at least has the decency to blush.

Aragorn arrives now and I move to allow him to examine the lad. As soon as I move my hand, he begins to sit up, but when I clear my throat meaningfully, he rolls his eyes and reclines back onto the ground. Aragorn looks up at the impaled goose and shakes his head, immediately understanding the situation. He does not comment, however, but just begins his examination.

He asks Legolas some questions to see if his brains have been addled. Seems to me that would be clear already, but he appears satisfied with the elf's answers. Next he looks into the lad's eyes, feels his head and neck, and runs his hands down his long limbs and over his ribs.

"Other than some scrapes and bruises, he appears to be fine," Aragorn tells me. "Of course we will keep a watch to make sure, and it might be wise for him to stay awake for an hour or two."

I can think of a few ways of keeping him awake, I think to myself. However, I do not voice my thoughts, but just nod to the elfling to indicate that he may sit up. He does so quickly. Aragorn shakes his head again, looks at me and shrugs his shoulders, obviously glad that he is no longer the one who has to handle such situations. He is leaving the miscreant to me is seems. He heads back toward the camp, stopping to collect the quiver and bow and the goose from their place in the tree.

Legolas makes a move to follow the ranger, but I reach out and seize his wrist, preventing him from standing up. He settles back down next to me and shoots me a slightly fearful glance. It is well he should look a little anxious, for he has shaved years off my life this day. I have been negligent of my obligations, but that is about to end. This old dwarf cannot make it through another day as this one has been, so we shall be discussing a few things shortly.

My head is ringing yet that means I must still be alive. Which given the fall I have just sustained is good news indeed. I groan and attempt to force my eyes open and above my head I hear the concerned tones of the dwarf.

"Do not move, Laddie," I hear him say, "You must not try to get up yet."

"I am perfectly fine, Master Dwarf," I retort and attempt to sit up only to find that he has placed a hand on my chest and is preventing my doing so. Such presumption! I struggle to free myself but find it impossible to do so. Small in stature he may be but Master Gimli has a strength I had not fully appreciated until now.

He also seems to have little patience left, for as I shift under his hand he adds, "Be still or you will wish you had. You will not move until you have my leave to."

I blink as I hear the warning in his voice. Is it my imagination or is he really threatening me, and threatening me with what exactly? Whatever it is I do not appreciate it.

"I do not need you or anyone else watching over me. I am no child!" I snap back only for him to raise his eyes to where that Sauron be-damned goose still hangs and then he looks back at me and mutters caustically.

"Aye, you certainly have proved that today, Elfling."

I can feel my cheeks heating up and know I am blushing and am grateful for the arrival of Aragorn who proceeds to check me over with a thoroughness that reminds me of his foster father, Elrond. He even wears the same long-suffering expression on his face as he does so. It is almost as if he is disappointed when he admits that apart from a few cuts and bruises I am unharmed.

Master dwarf gives me permission to sit up which I hurry to do, for lying on my back I feel horribly vulnerable and I do not like the sensation at all, especially under the minatory gaze of Gimli Gloinson. When Aragorn says he is going to return to the others I rise and go to follow him but a firm hand on my arm prevents me from doing so and instead I have to watch as he takes the goose and my bow and quiver with him and disappears into the tree line. I am now left alone with my recently appointed guardian.

I peek at him through my eyelashes trying to gauge his current thoughts but although I consider myself to be a good judge of expression I can read nothing in the dwarf's face for most of it is hidden beneath that beard of his and his eyes are shaded by his helm. Then he looks up at me and my breath catches in my throat while my stomach begins to turn over and over in a horribly familiar and distinctly unpleasant fashion.

He is not my Adar I remind myself even as I find myself shifting uncomfortably as he continues to frown at me. Yes I know I have agreed, very foolishly as it now turns out, to accept his guardianship while we make our way south but that does not mean I have ceded to him all the rights of a parent. Especially not the kind of rights an elven parent has over his children.

I risk another look, and hurriedly turn my gaze away again because I do not in the least like the way he is looking at me. What is more I do not enjoy the feeling of guilt that is growing inside me for it is plain he has been worried for me. There is some comfort in that knowledge for we all need someone to care for our well-being albeit I would sooner it was not a dwarf!

What I should do is attempt some sort of an apology or explanation I suppose, but instead I open my mouth and blurt out "I do not know why you are looking at me in such a fashion Master Dwarf?"

That was perhaps not the most sensible thing to have said, I decide as he bends towards me and growls.

"You do not see why I am looking at you?"

He is spluttering in his rage, his face seems to be turning a strange shade of red, and I would not be at all surprised to see steam coming out of his ears. No definitely not the thing to have said, and yet I am not an errant elfling and refuse to be treated like one.

"No, I do not." I shake his hand from my arm and stand intending to follow Aragorn back to the camp.

"Have ye forgotten that you agreed to heed me so soon, elfling?"

"Nay, but there is nothing needed to be said here." I scowl at him for I do not like the way he uses the word 'elfling'. "I am well enough, you heard Estel say so. Come, we should return to the others. It is not wise for those of us who are warriors to be away from the ring bearer for such a long period of time."

He snorts at this telling me, "Ye did not seem concerned about that earlier when you left us, nor it seems did it occur to you that putting yourself at risk as you have so obviously just done, you may have left an already depleted Fellowship without your very important skills and abilities."

"I was not at risk!"

As soon as the words leave my mouth I know I have made a grave error for those dark eyes flash and he points a stubby finger at my midriff. "Is that so? Look at that cliff face and then tell me that again if ye dare. You were fortunate indeed not to be killed. Look" he repeats forcing me to look up at the cliff face. "What possessed you, you foolish elfling?"

I can see he is genuinely distressed at what might have happened to me and to my surprise I find that I do not at all like the fact that I have worried him so much but his use of the word elfling really annoys me. I am not and have not been for a very long time an elfling!

Although I have always been taught that raising your voice in an argument shows that you are losing the debate, I am too incensed to take note of that adage. "I AM NOT AN ELFLING!"I yell. "And who are you to scold and lecture me? Now, I intend to retrieve our supper and return to the camp, you may do as you wish."

As I attempt to step around him his arm comes out and grabs me about the waist. Before I can do more than let out an indignant yelp, I find myself tucked under his arm with my waist balanced on his hip and my face all but in the dust.

I struggle and squirm demanding to know what he thinks he is doing, and he has the audacity to laugh and tell me he is doing as he wishes and as I obviously need since I had just pronounced I was going to try and scale the cliff again!

I let out a yelp as a heavy hand lands with no warning on the seat of my leggings. This cannot possibly be happening to me I think. Yet already the heat is building and my thoughts of the morning on the size and weight of Gimli's hands are being borne out in a very painful manner.

I shout at him to stop this ridiculous punishment but it seems the dwarf has suddenly developed a form of deafness although there is apparently nothing wrong with his voice or his hand both of which continue to bombard my ears and my rear with unceasing regularity.

I am being reminded, forcibly reminded that having given myself into the guardianship of this particular dwarf I am and will be expected to heed him and if I do not … well the cost of ignoring him is being made very plain to me. I am all but dancing on the spot as my backside begins to throb. A sob breaks forth despite my every effort to subdue it, and I hear my own voice pleading for him to stop and telling him I am sorry and yet he still continues my punishment and I think I know why. Gimli told me that he took his new role in my life seriously and he is intent on proving it to me. There is some measure of comfort in that thought even though I would wish he had chosen a different manner of teaching me how important a dwarfish word giving is.

One thing is plain I will have to be more careful about my choice of words and my actions in the future.

Ai, but he has as hard a hand as my Ada!

I sit staring at my charge, wondering what action I had best take at this point. It occurs to me that there is a universally accepted way of dealing with an ill-behaved child, and in spite of his arguments to the contrary, that is exactly what he has shown himself to be this day. I am loath to resort to such action, however. Although his behavior has been questionable to say the least, I had hoped that he would learn to accept me in my new role as his guardian. I do not wish to give him further reason to resent me. However, I will do whatever is necessary to fulfill my duty to him, even if that means giving him more cause to rail against me. If he wants to do this the hard way, then I shall by all means entertain his wishes. I keep my expression stern and the lad begins to squirm under my gaze. He looks decidedly contrite now, so I wait to see what he will have to say. This should be good indeed. I expect him to begin with his contrived excuses at any moment, and am stunned when he finally does speak.

"I do not know why you are looking at me in such a fashion Master Dwarf?"

I must have misheard him. Surely he did not just have the gall to speak to me in such an insolent manner after all he has put me through this day. Let's make sure I heard that right.

"You do not see why I am looking at you?" I growl, feeling the rage rise within me, making my face grow hot!

"No I do not," is his icy reply. He shakes free of my grip and leaps to his feet. I follow his actions and stand up as well. I am now furious. I was in earnest when I made my commitment to him, though it seems he would withdraw his oath now if he could. It is too late for that, however, for now it is even clearer to me that he is in want of some firm guidance whether he feels so or not!

"Have you forgotten that you agreed to heed me so soon, Elfling?"

"Nay, but there is nothing needed to be said here," he frowns my way. . "I am well enough, you heard Estel say so. Come, we should return to the others. It is not wise for those of us who are warriors to be away from the ring bearer for such a long period of time."

My control is hanging by a thread. How dare he try to advise me of proper warrior decorum? It is he who has drawn my attention from the ring bearer and well he knows it.

I do not hesitate to remind him of his actions this day, "Ye did not seem concerned about that earlier when you left us, nor it seems did it occur to you that by putting yourself at risk as you have so obviously just done, you may have left an already depleted Fellowship without your very important skills and abilities."

"I was not at risk," says the elfling I found unconscious and unprotected on the ground less than half an hour ago. I look again at the smooth face of the cliff beside us. Stone such as this demands to be respected and I intend to make sure he understands that.

"Is that so? Look at that cliff face and then tell me that again if ye dare. You were fortunate indeed not to be killed." I say, tilting his chin up so that he must look at the sheer rock wall. "What possessed you, you foolish elfling?"

"I AM NOT AN ELFLING!" he shouts at me "And who are you to scold and lecture me? Now, I intend to retrieve our supper and return to the camp, you may do as you wish."

Aragorn has obviously missed something in his examination of the princeling's head. Clearly his brains have been scrambled by his fall if he thinks he is going after that cursed goose again. 'Do as you wish'; his words seem to be a challenge and I decide to accept it. He tries to walk around me, but I am ready for him. Before he can even yelp a protest, I have his slender frame pinned under my arm and am holding him fast to my side. He demands to know what I think I am doing and I have to laugh at the nerve it takes for him to demand anything in his current precarious position. I inform him that I am only doing what he has so obviously been asking for by his recent words and deeds.

He squeaks in surprise as my hand lands hard on the seat of his leggings. He must be very fearless indeed, for he continues to issue me orders to stop, in spite of the fact that he is clearly unable to free himself. I admire his fortitude, but that does not keep me from continuing to belabor his backside with rapid, stinging slaps. Had I taken this action sooner, much worry and trouble might have been prevented, so I ignore his loud complaints and begin to set him straight on the kind of behavior I expect from one under my care. I let him know that once a dwarf had made a commitment, there can be no going back, so he may as well decide now to get used to the idea of having a dwarven guardian no matter how unappealing the idea is to him. I inform him that my instructions are not meant to annoy him, but are for his own good and should he choose not to heed them in future, we will find ourselves right back in our current situation and next time I will not wait so long to act.

I am uncertain if it is my words or the heat that must be growing in his rear that affects him, but his tone changes. He is now pleading with me to stop and apologizing profusely for his actions. I must admit this gives me pause, but I hear Gloin's voice in my mind reminding me that I must not be too soft of heart. I rebalance his slight weight against my hip and redouble my efforts to make my point clear, continuing to rain down my heavy-handed slaps. A small sob escapes him, and I am lost. Never have I heard him cry, even when we lost Gandalf to the gaping abyss. I continue for only a moment longer, to prove that tears cannot move me, and then help the lad regain his feet, steadying him when he staggers a bit.

He is swaying with fatigue and distress, so I gently guide him to sit back down, wincing along with him as his backside makes contact with the unforgiving ground. He sits with his knees bent and his face buried in his folded arms. Silent sobs rack his body, and I think likely there is more to this than the ache he must be feeling in his nether regions. Even though it is of his own doing, this has been a difficult day for him. He has expended vast amounts of energy, and has taken a nasty fall besides. On top of that it has been a brutal week, beginning with the loss of our esteemed leader and friend. Legolas must certainly be as heartbroken over this as the rest of us, but he alone has been unable to find release in tears. I do not say a word, but offer my support by rubbing slow circles on his shaking back.

Perhaps it is only because there is no one else around to answer his urgent need for comfort, but as soon as he feels my touch he wraps his arms around my neck and buries his face in my beard. I embrace him and hear myself telling him that all will be well. I say this hoping that it is the truth and knowing I will do all in my power to make it so for this child. I know that I have not made a mistake in agreeing to take on the assignment of caring for the lad. It is an honorable commission that I will fulfill to the very best of my ability.

After a while, he pulls away from me and it is time to return to the others. Night is full upon us and we would be better near the fire as it has become quite cold. I am reminded that it is many days past time for a certain elfling to find a bedroll. I stand and offer my hand to the lad, but he looks up at me uncertainly.

"Master Gimli, do you think…that is do I look like I have been…I mean will the others be able to tell?"

I suppress a smile as I pretend to think this over. With his red rimmed eyes, flushed face and wildly disordered hair, he looks so freshly spanked that a blind cave troll would be able to tell. Still it is dark, and if the others suspect anything, I hope that they will have the discretion to make no comment. I smooth down the worst of the frazzled hair, and tell him he looks fine. He rewards me with a watery smile, and we make our way back to where the others are waiting in a circle of firelight.

I limp along behind my new guardian my head full of thoughts and confusion. One part of me is indignant, another ashamed. But deep in my heart I feel peace, comfort, a coming home if you like, a knowledge of who and what I am and what I am able to do and what I will not be allowed to get away with from now on. I should feel a sense of embarrassment, of mortification even, after having been so used, but honesty compels me to admit that I do not. At least only in as much as I worry what the others will make of our return.

Aragorn will be expectant and the others probably curious. I will have to trust to Master Gimli and hope he is right in that if our companions notice they will not speak of it and if they do well mayhap I will deserve it.

I am not intending to dawdle but Gimli obviously feels that I am for he urges me to 'make haste else all the goose will be gone.' And given the rapacious appetites of the Periannath he could well be right.

It is a pity that second goose remains out of reach. Almost without thought, my head turns back towards the cliff.

"Do not even think on it Laddie"

I flush, are my thoughts so transparent? "It is a waste Master Gimli"

"Aye, I know it, but it is going nowhere and tomorrow you can show us all your skill in archery by firing another arrow up to the bird with a thin rope attached. That way we will not only get the goose for dinner but retrieve your arrows as well."

He has managed to surprise me again, for he has come up with a solution that had I bothered to think of this afternoon would have saved me a great deal of trouble and pain.

The coal black eyes of the dwarf twinkle and he chuckles, "We were bound to come to it sooner or later lad." He informs me, "Maybe it is for the best that we are both now more comfortable in our new relationship."

"I am not at all 'comfortable' Master Gimli." I complain. He claps his hands together and laughs out loud, obviously very amused by my situation.

I try to scowl, yet his amusement is infectious and I find I am smiling in return albeit a trifle ruefully, for I suspect my life has just taken a new turn and that comfort and I are going to become something more like strangers from now on.

Yet, in a strange way the fact that I now have someone to turn to, to talk with and to look to for guidance is going to be a comfort to me so perhaps things will not be so bad.

A strong hand on my arm pulls me forward again and my hand goes to Gimli's shoulder seeking and finding strength and reassurance there.

No perhaps things are not going to be too bad after all and the possibility of friendship and companionship between an elf and a dwarf will not be as impossible as I used to believe.

If he mentions that blasted goose again, I'm going to knock him into next week, I think to myself. Of course he turns around to look at it still hanging tauntingly in the bush, but I stop him before he even opens his mouth.

"Do not even think on it, Laddie."

When he complains of the waste of it I suggest that tomorrow he can just bring it down with another arrow. He grimaces at my words, obviously wondering why he didn't think of that earlier and save himself a good deal of trouble. I myself believe that it is better the way things happened today, for now we can move forward, both knowing where we stand. Of course I cannot help thinking that if he hasn't figured out how things are, he will be the one standing and good bit of the time I'll wager.

He is dawdling, no doubt hesitant to face the company, so I grasp his arm to pull him along. I hope they will ask no questions, but delaying our return will not make any difference to the outcome and we are both in need of food and the warmth of the fire. He places his hand on my shoulder and I marvel at the unlikely situation I find myself in.

The others are watching us as we step into the firelight. Pippin springs to his feet and opens his mouth as if to speak, but his cousin pulls him back to the ground and digs a sharp elbow into his ribs. He scowls fiercely, but keeps his mouth shut.

It makes me smile when kind Sam hands Legolas a bowl of the stewed goose, patting his arm as if comforting someone who has been ill.

The ranger has a wicked twinkle in his eye and is wearing a cocky half grin. Nothing gets past him. Obviously he knows what has taken place while we were absent from the company and I am reminded of my earlier thoughts that he must have a bit of a mischievous streak himself. I also remember how he has found so much amusement in our woes this day, so before he can attempt to mock the lad, I give his ear a solid thump. "Leave off Human!" I say, winking at Legolas. Aragorn laughingly rubs his ear and begs pardon while the others look on in astonishment.

It is a comical sight indeed, but I mostly have eyes for my elfling. He winks back at me and both of our smiles are genuine. It occurs to me that if a dwarf and an elf can have the bond of trust that we are beginning to form between us, there is hope for Middle Earth indeed. For the first time since the wizard fell, I am certain that we shall triumph.


End file.
